We're okay
by Inamioly
Summary: After the group escapes Terminus, Daryl finds Beth... only she's not alone, and she'll need his help protecting them. Bethyl
1. Chapter 1

Flames. Flames engulfed the remaining bits of darkness that surrounded them, and they could suddenly see everything. Their hearts thumped loudly to the sound of a terrifying soundtrack, and they all but gasped at the realization of the extent of their fear: when had humans – live beings – become scarier than gut-eating zombies?

As they looked back on what had once held the potential to be their long awaited sanctuary, their satisfying grins didn't quite meet their eyes. The tired wrinkles on their foreheads betrayed their apparent relief, and Rick motioned for everyone to keep going… he knew it wouldn't be long before the realization hit them. What would they do now? Tara was wounded, having been shot in the abdomen; Bob had a deep gash on his leg from climbing the fence; and his most skilled, usually fearless brother in arms seemed close to sleepwalking.

Yes, the group had managed to escape, and none of them had been left behind.

Terminus, however, had kept a piece of each and every one of them to burn down with it.

TWDTWDTWD

As soon as they found a clearing far enough from their captors, Rick and Abraham told everyone to rest while they set up traps with rusty metal and broken bottles. Maggie and Glenn were quick to do as they said, laying an unconscious Tara on the grass.

"Bob? What can we do?" The brunette shouted over to the wounded doctor. He was already taking care of his own injury, allowing Sasha to clean it up for him with leaves and then giving her a piece of fabric to use as a tourniquet.

Glancing over to the seemingly lifeless girl, he winced as Sasha tightened the knot around his leg. "Check… to see if it's got… ah… an exit wound." He closed his eyes in pain.

Glenn lifted her shirt and Maggie turned her to the side. "Yeah. Through and through."

"And how's her pulse?"

Maggie motioned for everyone to be quiet. "Uhm… dunno… I mean, it's weird. Quick."

"Damn it." Bob cursed. "Help me up." He asked Sasha. He then limped towards them and sat beside Tara heavily. "I think…" He sighed. "I think it might've hit an organ."

"What?" Glenn frowned. "What does that mean? What do we do?"

"That's the thing…" Bob whispered, eyeing the fallen brunette.

"We can't do anything." Maggie's lip trembled. "Right? That's what you're sayin', right?"

"No!" Glenn stood up. "Rick! We gotta get her somewhere safe!" He yelled, looking everywhere around them. "Rick, c'mon. We gotta move, she needs meds!"

"Honey, honey…" Maggie tugged at the bottom of his pants, watery eyes meeting his frantic ones. "C'mere."

"No!" Glenn shook his head, his angry tone making everyone wince. They needed to avoid making noise at all costs. "She survived everything, every single thing so far. We're a group…" His voice faltered.

"I know. I know, but…"

"Not _but_, Maggie. You see, she doesn't deserve to die." He knelt down, his head leaning against Maggie's. "She's a good person." His lower lip trembled, and everyone around them fell silent.

Tara's unsteady breathing became the only source of sound. When Rick and Abraham arrived, Michonne explained the situation to them, and both sat down to wait with them. Maggie and Glenn held both her hands, and Rosita placed her jacket under Tara's head.

It all felt scarily familiar. All the deaths, all the uncertain moments, all the killings… they all weighed heavily in each of the now hopelessly waiting hearts. Another loss, another life lost to a group of self-entitled assholes. And those who got to live – well, they weren't always better off.

They had no way to measure time. The moon was high up in the sky, and had been so for a while, so it had to be close to midnight – perhaps a bit later. They all stared at the sky, defeated, unable to cry, always defensive; always waiting for the next blow.

"Her hand's cold." Maggie murmured, after a while.

Glenn cleared his throat. "What're we gonna do, Rick?"

Rick eyed the group, worry evident in his eyes. He had half a mind to tell them to run now, to get as far away from, well, everywhere, as possible. But that was just despair talking. And he couldn't afford to feel such blatant despair. Not when everyone was looking at him with such lost looks. "First things first - we bury her. Then we get a good night's rest. And in the morning… we walk."

TWDTWDTWD

Daryl woke up before everyone else. Abraham and Rosita had stayed on watch, each on one side of the camp – if one could call it that - , and the redneck had taken that opportunity to get as much sleep as he could. He hadn't been sleeping that well, and at the lack of booze, he guessed he could use the extreme exhaustion that had overcome his body as an anaesthetic. He enjoyed feeling numb; he liked how it enabled him to be so much more productive than when he was just feeling sorry for himself.

Nodding in Abraham's direction, he swiftly walked over the traps, holding the twig he had sharpened the night before in his hand. With a sigh, he brushed his shoulder, noticing how light it felt; the only thing he allowed himself to miss was his crossbow. He yawned and stretched, allowing himself some time to gather his thoughts.

He noticed what appear to be a rabbit's trail. It wouldn't feed everyone, not in the least, but it was something. Marching in automatic, he didn't even wince when a ray of sun breached through the highly dense leaves in the trees. He felt as if he was hangover, but figured it was due to the inhalation of smoke from the night before.

The trail ended up being a dead end. Someone else had found it first, killed it and skinned it. "Stupid rabbit." He spat, annoyed. "Lettin' yourself be caught by everyone and anyone."

He wanted to yell. And shout for everyone to hear. He wanted not to worry about being loud, or selfish, or reckless. He was tired of being responsible, of being the strong one, but he was especially sick of being quiet. Yeah, no more quiet. Daryl snickered to himself; _take this, fuchin' wobblin' things._

He threw a large rock against a stomp, causing a flock of birds to fly away. "Yeah, take that!" He kicked a tree, and it hurt enough to make him grimace. "Fuck. Y'hear that? Fuck! Fuck you…" He inhaled heavily, knowing he was about to lose the remnant of his control. Punching the tree, he leant his head against the trunk. "You fuckin' p…"

And then he heard it. A tiny sob. Two tiny sobs. He frowned; he _knew_ he wasn't sobbing, and his face didn't feel wet in the least. At best, it felt numb. He felt numb all over.

But then he heard it again. The quietest of sobs, followed by the most hushed of cries.

Glancing around in a mix of nervousness and wariness, his eyes fell on a large bush a few steps from the rabbit's carcase. Walking steadily and soundlessly towards it, he squinted his eyes and tightened his lips; something didn't feel right.

With a tentative hand, he reached for the leaves, but as he tried to grub the bush, he felt his eyes widen as another hand grabbed his. The hold was urgent, and the hand felt smaller than his, more delicate. His instincts were dormant, and he admonished himself for not trying to break free from the fleeting, but strong, grasp.

"What…?"

Freeing his other hand from the twig, he removed some of the leaves from the way – just enough to get a good luck at what was hiding behind them. He gasped.

"B- Beth?"

She eyed him, mouth slightly open, no sound coming out. Her eyes filled with tears, and he felt his arm failing him, falling against his will, and his knees crumbling with a soft thud. The blonde girl breathed shallowly, her lips trembling, but she held his gaze. And as another sob was heard, his attention was redirected towards her lap. Two kids – babies, really – were staring at him fearfully, their little heads peeking from behind Beth's back. Beth's rigid stance softened as she heard the little boy, and with her free hand brushed his cheek. The little girl tugged at Beth's shirt, and the blonde smiled, a tear falling down her cheek.

"It's okay, baby girl. It's Daryl."

**A/N: So, what did you guys think? I always struggle with the first chapter, but I think this story has potential ;)  
****Also, do you have any suggestions for names?**

**Kisses!**


	2. Chapter 2

A whirlwind of defeating emotions overcame his being as he tried to make sense of what had just happened. Beth wasn't dead. He had failed her, yes, but she had outwitted fate; she'd survived. And she'd come back to him. He hadn't dared hope for such a perfect outcome… and he wasn't sure what to do with it.

The group had, overtime, understood his very firm refusal in discussing everything concerned to Beth. They didn't know what had transpired between them in the months they had all been apart, but Daryl was, undoubtedly, changed. His tortured demeanour had evolved, almost as if he had once got better, only to get a thousand times worse afterwards.

Maggie had tried to talk to him once. It hadn't gone well. He hadn't realized how much it hurt to say her name out loud.

TWDTWDTWD

"It's okay to cry."

Daryl's whisper didn't go far; Beth just stared brokenly into the fire, sporting the same empty smile she'd flashed the others. They had been left to talk by the fire, alone, despite Maggie's insistence otherwise, and the redneck sat on the opposite side of the fire from her.

"What good would come of it?"

The redneck shrugged. Her whole nonchalance towards, well, everything had taken him by surprise; if he hadn't seen the hopeless, watery look she'd given him as he pulled her from the bush, he could have sworn she had been replaced by a robot version of her old self. " 'M not really experienced in the department, but I hear it works som'times." He nudged her shoulder softly, attempting a playful chuckle – it died on its lips. The whole scene was, quite truthfully, overwhelming – he wasn't used to being the okay one.

She'd been harassed by the others' blatant concern as soon as they arrived camp. Between her sister's frantic cries, Carl's almost crippling hugs, and Rick and Glenn's probing for threatening injuries, she'd remained still, almost completely motionless, a brave smile holding her entire being together. Both toddlers hid behind her legs the entire time, and no amount of effort on the group's behalf got them to open up; always on the verge of tears, they kept tugging at Beth's pants, until everyone eventually caved and allowed Daryl to lead the three of them to a quiet corner.

Rick and Abraham had asked for the group's input on what to do. Michonne suggested, and everyone agreed, that a couple extra days wouldn't hurt them, and that they should let Beth and the kids calm down before resuming their journey.

Nightfall brought an unwelcomed cold wind, for they built a big enough fire to keep everyone warm while they ate dinner. Michonne and Rosita had come up with four rabbits, which wasn't half bad considering they weren't experienced hunters – Rosita especially.

"Annie lost her bunny a couple of days ago, near the stream." Beth murmured, breaking the silence, eyeing the sleeping little girl on her lap. Daryl just nodded in response. There was so much he wanted to ask her. The only relevant information they'd got from her was they were almost two year-old twins. "And Joshua twisted his ankle, I think."

"Uhm… we could have Bob take a look at'im." Daryl suggested.

Beth sighed, between relieved and tired. "Thank you."

He cleared his throat, forcing her to look him in the eyes. "So… how long 'u been on the run for?"

Beth's vacant gaze darkened, and he finally saw it; her expressionless face turned into a frown – challenging at first, defensive in the end. And then her shallow breathing deepened and her cautious silence gave way to barely controlled sobs.

"Oh, Beth…" Daryl ran a hand through his hair and stood up.

"No, no…" She inhaled shakily and wiped the tears on her shoulder with effort. " 'S okay, it'll s- stop in a moment."

He merely walked towards her, as quietly as he managed, and knelt down in front of her trembling figure. "You're not okay."

"Shh." She begged, leaning away from his touch. "You'll w- wake the kids."

"I won't." He promised, and then placed a hand on her cheek, supporting her head. "But y'ain't fine."

"I'll be." Beth countered, through all the sobs and tears, but allowed for her head to rest in his hand.

"Yeah, you will."

And so they stood like that, Daryl supporting her pain, trying his best to hide how it nearly broke him to see her that way. Her visible brokenness had made it impossible for him to process his own pain over getting her back. Beth wanted to look strong, he wasn't sure if because of the kids or the group – or him - , but it drained her.

Daryl eventually let her catch some sleep, his vest wrapped around her tiny body for she had covered the toddlers with her coat.

TWDTWDTWD

The following morning, Beth woke up to the smell of berries. Opening her eyes, she saw a grinning Daryl with his arm stretched out and a hand full of red berries.

"Rise 'n shine, sleepyheads."

"Someone's chirpy today." Beth mumbled, still half asleep. Annie and Josh stirred and also opened their eyes, rubbing them with chubby little hands. Beth smiled at them. "Eat up, squirts."

"There's enough for everyone." Daryl showed them a bag full of berries, and then shrugged at Beth's shocked look. "Eh, Rick helped."

"It must've taken you hours…" She whispered, eyeing the hungry toddlers grabbing fistfuls of the fruits. "Thank you." She sent a true smile – almost cheeky - his way. "Have I ever thanked you before?"

"Only once or twice." Daryl chuckled. "And I believe… this belongs to miss Annie."

Beth followed the little girl's confused stare into Daryl's bag, and gasped along as a dirty stuffed bunny made its appearance. Annie jumped from Beth's lap and clumsily walked towards Daryl. Hesitant at first, as soon as Daryl smiled timidly at her, she stretched out a tentative hand, and swiftly grabbed the bunny. "Jerry." She whispered in wonder. "Thank you, Dar'l." She quickly retreated back into Beth's embrace, who just stared at him in wonder.

"How…?" She merely asked.

Daryl stood up, nodding appreciatively at her. "It'll be okay." If it depended on him, it really would.


End file.
